


A Thousand Oceans Wide (a thousand stars are passing by)

by cerulean_sin (am_bellanoire)



Series: Hook Me (A Huma Tale) [7]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Mild Angst, Post-Descendants 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 10:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/am_bellanoire/pseuds/cerulean_sin
Summary: She wasn't some innocent little girl that was going to bat her lashes and go weak at the knees in his arms. His Uma just wasn't built that way and he wouldn't have wanted anything different. Still, he was determined to make this good for her, a night to remember. He didn't have to be gentle but he wasn't going to be rushed or rough. She didn't deserve that. Nor did he want to give that to her.





	A Thousand Oceans Wide (a thousand stars are passing by)

**Author's Note:**

> Words cannot express how delighted I am to still find this series being so well received. Every kudo, every comment, literally brings the brightest smile to my face and just gives me more motivation to continue to write. So thank you all again, so much, for your kind words and support. 
> 
> This was difficult to write for many reasons. Technically this was finished days ago but I wrote like three drafts, editing the hell out of it for the hell of it. This is the end result and part of me is still kind of pissed with it, but overall I'm pleased else it would still be on my computer. Though that's enough of me being my own critic BECAUSE!!!!!
> 
> If memory serves me correctly, today is a young queen's birthday. Happy 21st Birthday to the lovely China Anne McClain. Seeing her grow up from Tyler Perry's Daddy's Little Girls, to House of Payne, watching her slay the vocals with her equally as talented sisters, from A.N.T Farm to the spectacular performance she gave portraying our favorite sea witch Uma on Descendants 2 and 3 to Jennifer Pierce on Black Lightning (which is an amazing show) I hope she continues to own her craft and gifts, and excel at whatever it is she puts her mind and spirit to. Life has dealt her a hard blow with the passing of Cameron Boyce and I pray that she continues to find strength and peace. I hope she enjoys her day and maybe have a lil' cocktail to celebrate. 
> 
> Here is part seven of a twelve part series, surrounding the growing relationship between Harry and Uma and featuring the rest of the VKs after the barrier between Auradon and the Isle came down. I hope you all like it. Feedback would be much appreciated .Happy Reading!

_"I know somewhere we'll find a little place for you and me...we'll let our hearts be guided through the dark just trust me...there's nothing and no one we'll miss and one day we'll look back with no regrets...we have to go a thousand oceans wide, a thousand times against an endless tide, we'll be free to live our lives....please don't drift away from me, a thousand oceans wide..."_ \-- Tokio Hotel

* * *

Harry was at a loss. And not just at a loss for words. He was at a complete and utter loss staring at the fervid look in her dark eyes. This wasn't some scantily clad wench or bar maid after hours in some deserted alley, with a simpering grin on her face as she beckoned to him with a finger when his pockets were full of pillaged blue bills. This was Uma. The sea witch who had a turquoise tentacle wrapped around his heart so tightly he had no idea how the thing was still beating. His captain. The only someone in the world who cared enough about him to not only give him a home, a foundation, a purpose, but to show him that love wasn't just something reserved for the so-called heroes of Auradon. 

Uma who had risen to her feet and began unzipping herself out of her vest and leathers. There was no shyness to her, no hesitation or trepidation or awkward fumbling. Just this steady, steely determination that he so admired. She looked similar to how she did when she was going into battle, facing an opponent down with her cutlass in hand, so sure of herself, haughty even in the way she tossed her teal locks over her shoulder and kicked off her boots. All Harry could do was watch with rapt fascination, dumbstruck as she peeled off each layer, revealing night kissed skin that seemed to _glow_ in the soft moonlight. She truly was magnificent, a deity of the sea, and he could watch her like this contentedly for hours, days, longer than that and never grow bored. 

But she was growing impatient. He could tell by the way she quirked her brow and pursed her lips, her hands moving to rest on her hips as she pinned him with a glare. 

“Don't tell me you're just gonna sit there and make me do all the work, Hook.” 

No, he couldn't let her do that now, could he? 

In a heartbeat, Harry was in front of her, gripping her hands with his, halting them from where they had been attempting to make quick work of the laces of her stays. This was the most compromising position he had ever seen her in, her arms behind her back and him keeping her still. She continued to glare at him but there was no aggression in the stare. There was something alluring in it, something that called to him like a siren's song. If he were a ship and she a crag of jagged rocks at sea, he would willingly run aground just to succumb with her in his grasp, around him, consuming him. 

He tugged at the laces of her corset slowly, deliberately pulling each string through its eyelet, never allowing his gaze to waver from hers. She lifted her chin in the form of a challenge and a lazy smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. He knew her better than any one perhaps besides her own self. He knew that she didn't have the experience he did in these matters but he also knew she wasn't some innocent little girl that was going to bat her lashes and go weak at the knees in his arms. His Uma just wasn't built that way and he wouldn't have wanted anything different. Still, he was determined to make this good for her, a night to remember. He didn't have to be gentle but he wasn't going to be rushed or rough. She didn't deserve that. Nor did he want to give that to her. She did things to his insides, things that made him feel as if the very bones holding his body together had been reduced to ash. 

The garment fell soundlessly into the sand to join the others that she had removed herself and Harry took a step back to take in the view. Gods she was _glorious_. It was strange, truly it was, because he had seen her in her small clothes before but never like this. Never with eyes that drunk her in as if she were the last sip of fresh water and he was surrounded by bottomless brine. With her leathers on, she was all honed edge and steel like the blade she wielded but without them, she was _more_. There were woman's curves to her, something oddly delicate. Rounded where lines had been sharp, mouthwatering, and he found that his hands were just as greedy as his eyes. He snatched her forward, pulling her to him at the same time that his lips descended onto hers, kissing her as if she were his final breath. 

Without breaking the kiss, he led her back to the blanket, pulling her down with him so that she was straddling his lap. Skin to skin like this, they were far closer than they had ever been. She was warm and soft to the touch and everything he had imagined she would be. He let his calloused hands trace patterns along her strong arms, feeling the muscles tense and release beneath his fingertips, up to her shoulders blades, down her back, the line of her spine, relishing in the way she shuddered as he brushed at a sensitive spot he never knew existed. She was like a buried treasure he had spent years trying to unearth. Now that he had her in his clutches, he wanted to treat each part of her with the reverence she was worthy of. 

In a fluid motion, Harry reversed their positions so that she was sprawled on her back and he atop her. Uma wrenched her mouth away from his with a shocked noise, her eyes widening as she blinked up at him, clearly dazed by the sudden flip that she hadn't anticipated. 

It was a strange feeling being _under_ someone like this , the sea witch decided. To her that was something that meant submission, defeat. Every fiber in her being went rigid, wanting to counter and be up and out of such a vulnerable position. But Harry didn't loom over her, she wasn't _trapped_, there was enough distance between them that if she really tried to get up, she would be able to without having to be aggressive and strong arm him. There was no danger, no threat, nothing to fight. And he was still kissing her, his lips blazing a searing path along her collarbone down to her chest and sternum and his hands were running along her bare sides, caressing, stroking, gripping as if he would never let her go and she didn't want him to. So she focused on something else and luckily there was a lot to turn her attention to. Like the heat spiraling in her belly, the way her breathing hitched as he moved lower, nipping at the taut sable skin that covered her well toned abdominal muscles, his tongue soothing the light pinch of his bite. 

She was _trembling_, her teeth starting to chatter as if she had been submerged into an ice bath. Which was contradictory, wasn't it? Had such a thing happened, she was sure scalding vapor would rise and the shards of frost would sizzle and melt in an instant because she felt as if she had simultaneously been set ablaze. And Harry was staring at her from between her thighs that had parted to make room for his broad shoulders, the piercing blue of his eyes seeming to go straight through her, to impale her, and it took all of Uma's well forged, iron clad will not to look away from such intensity. 

“Are ye nervous?” The pirate asked, his brogue thick but his tone soft, his dark brows knitting slightly as he tried to read her expression. She was out of her element, entirely so and not just because they were on dry land. He ran his fingers over the smooth skin of her leg, noting the way she tensed beneath his touch. 

His captain shook her head, a little too quickly to be convincing. He couldn't help but grin at the way her jaw clenched as if she were offended by the mere suggestion that she could be anything less than her stalwart, sea hardy self in this moment. But he knew her too well for that. 

“Ye know ye can't lie to me, lass.”

“Let me up,” Uma groused with a scowl, propping herself up on her elbows to glower at him. She wasn't in the mood to deal with his foolishness right now. Not when she was naked and about to embark on a voyage she had no clue how to navigate and she didn't appreciate him calling her out on her lie either. She was a good liar, one had to be on the Isle. He was the only someone in the world really who knew when she wasn't being truthful and usually she kind of liked it. Not right now though. Not here. 

But Harry of course, wasn't deterred. Her ire never truly touched him the way it did others because he knew how to effectively diffuse it. And the same way he could frighten others out of their wits and not scare her even a little, was the way she could be damn near spewing steam from her ears, ready to mangle and maim the first thing that cross her path and he managed to skip across her line of vision unscathed. He simply cracked a puckish smile and pressed a loud, smacking kiss to the outside of her knee. 

“I don't think I will.”

“Harry.”

The humor bled from his face, though his mouth didn't lift from her skin. His hands caressed, slowly, sweetly, his own form of an apology perhaps. “If it puts yer pretty little head at ease, I am too.”

That gave her pause but she tried not to show it. If she weren't supporting her weight on her forearms, she would have crossed them over her chest in an attempt to ground herself. “For what? You've done this a bunch of times.” She could not quite keep the edge of bitterness from her tone. She knew what he got up to late nights back home before he swaggered onto the Lost Revenge, stress free and calm, his hook dangling loosely in his grip rather than being wielded with a murderous gleam. Back then she had told herself she didn't care, everybody had their vices, everybody had to do what they needed to get through another night on the island prison. She hadn't faulted him then. But now that he was _hers_, even if the past was the past, she wanted to swim back to those alleys and vacant buildings and introduce those harlots to the pointy end of her cutlass. 

“Never like this,” her first mate vowed solemnly, meeting her gaze once more to let nothing go unsaid between them. Those trysts meant nothing and he'd do whatever he had to in order to convince her of the fact, “Never with ye.”

“Sap,” Uma snarked with a mocking gnash of teeth but Harry could tell she was starting to relax. She could never tease him well and proper if she was too far into her own head. Besides, he meant what he had said. It didn't matter how many skirts he had chased or knickers he had hooked his way into. It hadn't meant anything. Just a means to an end, a way to relieve some stress, a way to take out his anger sometimes. And the wenches hadn't been _her_. He'd meant that too. No, his captain, she was a goddess and he would spend the rest of his days reminding her of that fact for as long as she allowed him to. 

With that being said, he turned his attention to her center. Her hair was teal there too, her skin darker, tinged with blue, which didn't surprise him. If anything it made her even more beautiful because it was so _her_. She glistened like nacre. And there, betwixt her delicate feminine shell was her Tahitian pearl, flush to near translucence and aching for him. He wet his lips with his tongue and leered at her, sure that his eyes were starting to pink around the whites making the expression all the more feral. 

“Don't ye worry, I'm not gonna bite ye.”

“If you do, I'll bite you back.” 

“Noted.” 

Harry had known hunger before. On the Isle, warm meals and full bellies were hard to come by. But the way he turned his focus on the sea witch afore him was with the expression of one who was _starving_ and it was only she who could satiate him. He was famished, ravenous for her and he dove into this luscious, wanton fare without hesitancy, eager and gluttonous.

The first hot swipe of his tongue between her sodden folds sent Uma's back arching up off the blanket, her spine bending, a throaty purr rumbling out of her chest before she could restrain it. The second had her squeezing her eyes shut with a soundless gasp, her hips bucking upward to meet his mouth, her mind spiraling because she couldn't imagine how something could feel so _good_. But when he abandoned the cat like licks to fully enclose her flesh within his lips, gently suckling like a baby might at its mother's breast, Uma felt as if she had sunk beneath the waves, far too many fathoms below. She felt as if she would implode from the unfamiliar pressure that had begun to build, and the breathy moan that unfurled out of her vocal chords was high in pitch enough for her to clamp a fist over her mouth to suppress it. 

Harry hadn't taken his eyes off of her yet. She was rapturous to watch, battling the surging tide of pleasure as if she were battening down the hatches of their ship before a storm. But he was not going to let her stifle herself. Unhooking one of his arms from its purchase around her thigh, he swabbed her hand away from her face, lacing their fingers together. He lifted his mouth from her, already missing her taste. 

“Let me hear ye, darling. Don't hold back, not with me.”

Uma had no witty comeback for that, especially when he slid both arms up her body to tease her dusky nipples into sturdy peaks, heightening the pressure that was brewing between her thighs. Gods, were those high pitched, desperate sounds coming from her throat? She could barely recognized her voice, shuddering moans and choked sobs as she twisted and writhed against the hold he had on her. She didn't care, so long as Harry didn't stop whatever it was he was doing below her waist. She was going to break apart. Like a weathered vessel battered by a storm chopped sea. But he was relentless with his mouth, with his hands, with the way he _took_ and took, drinking her down like the finest rum, inhaling her like the cleanest air. He was _devouring_ her. And her body was helpless but to allow it because it was steadily swimming toward something as if her very life depended on the destination. She didn't know what or where but whatever it was, she felt as if she was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. It was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time, to have everything within her moving forward, racing forward rather, to take a flying leap off the edge of a precipice. A sharp cry was torn from deep within her as she convulsed, her limbs twitching as her core pulsed rapidly beneath her first mate's lips. 

Harry watched the entire spectacle, finally letting up when she weakly pushed at his head in a silent plea. Watching her come undone had evoked the same feelings he'd felt seeing the sun rise for the first time in Auradon. It had been something he felt _privileged_ to see. And look at her now, her chest rising and falling, her dark eyes still unfocused. Her body quaking with the aftershocks of climax. And he had done that to her. He pressed his mouth, lips still sticky with her essence below her navel just to feel her skin quiver, just to hear the way she sighed, soft and broken, and it was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard his captain make. It made him all the more ready to take her to new heights, his body hardening in anticipation.

But then his expression turned pensive, serious, the rakishly smug look evaporating as a thought crossed his mind. Given the circumstances and the fact that he'd been on this boat before, it shouldn't have taken this long. “I'll be careful, ye know,” he said, his voice somewhat hoarse but sure “To keep any wee krakens from swimming back with us.”

Uma's head lolled to the side as she gazed at him sidelong, her vision still kind of blurry. Yet she was touched by his concern even if it was unwarranted.“You don't have to worry about that. I'm not..._fertile_ yet,” she grimaced at her own awkwardness but forged on, “My kind, it works different for us. If I thought I was, or if I could get...whatever, well you'd be the first to know.”

“Are ye sure?” Harry asked as he pushed himself off his knees, covering her body with his, resting his weight on his hands. They were flush against each other, skin to skin now, belly to belly, chest to chest. Damn near heart to heart. He could feel the steady thrum beneath her rib cage trip over itself as it sped. 

“When am I ever not.”

An ironic statement indeed as Uma had suddenly never felt more unsure about something in her life. Not about the whole baby thing. She was positive about that. Being what she was, what her mother was, she didn't have to think on that for some time. It was the reason she had no siblings. It was a one shot deal when it came to reproduction and that would happen only when she was somewhere mid-twenties. But that was the farthest thing from her mind now. No, right now, the only thing she could focus on besides rose tinged forget me not eyes that were suddenly in her direct line of sight seemingly out of nowhere was the fact that she couldn't breathe. And not just because her body had literally been blown apart from the inside out. With Harry bracing himself above her, he was so close. Normally she liked his nearness, craved it even when she needed comfort, however it wasn't providing comfort right now.

Feeling him pressed against her, and that molten hardness of him like velvet covered iron brushing against her inner thigh, his fresh scent cloying in her nostrils, she felt something she never imagine she would ever know. What it felt like to drown. She was drowning. Caught in a mercilessly mighty current, trapped in a whirlpool, her lungs aflame as if they were filling with cold brackish water, refusing to expand. And because she couldn't catch her breath, couldn't relax beneath him, her chest heaving, her body still shaking, she began to panic. She gripped him by the shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her fingers pressing hard enough to bruise, not sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. She was panting, starved for air, her brown eyes wide and stricken. She must be losing her nerve, she tried to ration even as the space behind her ribs continued to ache. She was tougher than that, and it was pissing her off that she was having this princess like panic attack over something so natural as sex. She was simply being _dramatic_, she told herself, even if deep down she knew she didn't possess even an iota of dramatics. 

“Just do it already,” Uma bit out through clenched teeth, her grip tightening, her eyes slamming shut as she braced herself for the inevitable. 

Harry was helpless but to watch the whole thing unfold. At first, she was fine, coming down from the high of release and then something in her shifted like the moon bringing in the tide. To his credit he didn't wince even as it felt as though the blunt edges of her nails might draw blood. She couldn't be afraid of him, he knew that, he could never scare her. But something he was doing clearly was afflicting her. She was like a ship, flooded and foundering rapidly. No, he wasn't going to 'do it already'. He wasn't about to just ravage her like some common bar maid. She couldn't be worried about him hurting her. He loved to cause pain, it was in his nature, but not to her. Ever. And besides Uma was tougher than nails, sharper than a blade. He had watched her stitch up her own wounds countless times without even a grimace. He'd watched her reset her own shoulder once when it had been dislocated by a sparring match that had gotten out of hand and she hadn't uttered a whimper or whine. It wasn't fear on her face or even nervousness, this was deeper. She was unhinged, unsettled. In a position she clearly did not want to be in. Out of control. _Oh_. That's when it struck him like a blow between the eyes. He almost laughed to himself but knew it wouldn't be appreciated what with his captain looking so agitated. And then he felt unbelievably stupid. He should have realized it sooner. 

Mimicking his earlier motion, he hooked his feet around her strong calves, yanking her up with him as he rolled so that he was on his back and she was now draped atop his chest. 

“Is that better?” 

Uma didn't need to ask what he meant because the affect was almost instant. As if a switch had been flipped. A sinfully _coy_ smirk graced her lips and she tilted her head in affirmation.

“Much.”

She sucked in a deep, unhindered breath as the anchor like weight in her chest eased and her mind cleared. Tossing her teal hair over her shoulder, she sat astride her first mate finally feeling like the captain she was since she'd stripped her clothes off, running her hands over his chiseled chest. Exploring him, appreciating him. He had been skinny as a child but he had certainly filled out. Not as much as Gil had, of course, but she never doubted his capabilities to protect her. To help keep their crew in line. He was all hard lines and jagged edges. Smooth heat and ripples. Pale as the moon, which contrasted lovely with her darker hue. She traced his tattoos, smirking fondly at the three letters of her name that would forever be emblazoned in black ink on his left pectoral. It had been a bet, three years ago, and he had lost. Funny how something that had been a joke for a long time now meant something deeper. After today, she might consider getting his name inked onto her as well. In a spot only he would see. 

Aligning herself properly, like the piece of a puzzle, Uma lifted her hips and sank down onto him in a smooth and steady motion, relishing the guttural groan that bubbled out of Harry's throat. The stretch did burn, a sudden harsh sting that shocked her more so because it cut through the pleasurable haze. It wrenched a sharp gasp out of her, her teeth snapping together as she threw her head back, blinking up at the star studded sky to give herself a moment to adjust. It was a foreign sensation. It didn't hurt in the same way breaking a bone did or taking a wound from a foe's blade. The slight pain was nothing compared to all that. This was more. The intimacy of being closer to anyone than she had ever been before, feeling something that she had never felt, knowing that it was Harry letting her experience it. They were one, they literally had become one entity forged out of two. It was _overwhelming_. And that's what made her eyes well up and two trails of brine spill. Because all that _feeling_ needed somewhere to go.

But then Harry's hand was there, cupping her face, grounding her, turning her attention back to him. His eyes were full on red now. The rough pad of his thumb scrubbed at her cheek.

“Yer okay.”

It wasn't a question but a statement. And Uma nodded. She was okay. More than okay. With him beneath her and the sound of the waves crashing behind her, she could never not be okay. She rolled her hips with a low moan. It didn't sting anymore, it was an ache, but a deep ache that hurt so good, tinged with pleasure the way it was, the combination of the two sensations made her crave more. Especially when Harry grabbed onto her hips. Not to guide or coax her movements but to hang on for the ride. And didn't _that_ just make her feel powerful beyond measure. The sea witch uttered a raspy sigh and began to rock, steadily back and forth, bracing her hands behind her onto flexed quads, slowly building up speed, building a rhythm that chased that pleasurable pressure she now knew would lead to cyclonic release. And she wanted to see what he looked like when he reached that point. 

Harry had no choice really but to hold on for dear life. What else was one supposed to do, verily, when they were at the mercy of an oceanic goddess. And Uma was all of that and more, something obscenely, deliciously wanton. Her endless teal curls tumbling in waves over her shoulders, the blunt edges of her white teeth sunken into her plump bottom lip, bared breasts swaying as she straddled him, rode him down. She was like a tidal wave, strong and fierce, dragging him beneath an inescapable undertow, she moved like an electric eel, zapping him of his senses into paralysis. All he could do was tighten his grip, he could do nothing to stop the sounds she tugged out of him, the hoarse growls and grunts as she bent and broke him down to her will. She was hot and slick and wet, and everything he thought he might ever need. His captain, aboard her ship, steering him all ahead full, steadily onward into a torrential maelstrom.

Uma surged forward, crying out at the pulse that shot through her midsection from the change in angle, burying her face into the crook of his neck. Her teeth bit into supple, salty skin, her hands grasping, tugging at his short ebony locks, mirroring the desperate hold he had on her waist. She never slowed her movements, unrelenting, unyielding. Soft sighs were spilling from her lips now as that familiar throb began build within her core once more. She held him tighter, feeling her muscles start to tense, feeling that wave begin to crest. Harry was whispering something like a blessed mantra, a reedy murmur, and she could just make out the scant two syllables. “Uma...Uma...Uma,” The sea witch _cackled_, the sound rising above them in the still, saline air. “That's right,” she crooned on a purr, drawing his earlobe between her teeth, “That's my name.” The wave broke at last and she fell apart, collapsing on top of him, her moans dissipating into soft whimpers as his gravelly, wordless shout in her ear signaled him following her over the edge. 

“I love ye.”

The three words came out in a wheezy rush and though both were still dizzy with rapture, they froze once the sentiment was uttered aloud. Uma's heart nearly stuttered to a stop in her chest. It was the first time she had ever heard those words directed to her and she wasn't sure what to do or say. Her expression must have been stricken because Harry's eyes hardened and his lips twisted into an almost sneer. Uma gave his mouth a tap with her index finger, shaking herself out of her shock before her first mate could allow old Isle habits to ruin the moment. 

“I love you too.” The relief that took the place of the self deprecating expression made her grin and she couldn't help herself from hastily adding,“You better not be getting soft on me, Hook.”

“Ye'll find that I'm still hard where it counts,” Harry laughed and it was an impish sound, the mischief veering towards arrogant wickedness as he indolently rolled his hips and a keening mewl burst unbidden from Uma's throat. She slapped his chest with an open palm, thoroughly mortified at such a _girly_ display.

“Scoundrel. I should make you walk the plank for that,” but it was hardly a proper threat what with her usually stern tone pitched all high and breathless the way it was. 

“Aye, ye should,” Harry snickered as he lazily wrapped a finger around an errant teal tress. But then he sobered up, letting his voice drop an octave, his brogue heavy in her ear, “I'll walk wherever ye want me to for however long ye want me to, darling.”

She leaned into him, pressing her lips to his, allowing her waist to wind and feeling him shudder beneath her. The ocean called in the distance, the surf soaking the sand, it's song rivaled only by the raspy sighs the pirate queen and her first mate drew from one another.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so two things. Uma is a top (no, no the concept doesn't strictly apply to men even though some people think it does), so submitting to another person even if she loves them would be difficult for her to do at first. 
> 
> Second, octopuses only procreate once in their lifetime and given that Uma is technically half octopus I thought it important to include that little nerdy fact in this somewhere.


End file.
